


Bombardier Fritz

by fkmoore



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:59:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fkmoore/pseuds/fkmoore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo Greyjoy is evacuated from London to Middlesbrough at the start of the second world war, he finds himself in Dunsley Hall, a huge house in the North York Moors, living with the family of Lord Edward Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bombardier Fritz

**Author's Note:**

> This may, at some point, contain sexual acts between those NOT of legal age, but chapter one DOES NOT contain any of this, and it will not for the foreseeable future. If it is something you are not comfortable with don't start reading it at all!
> 
> written for tumblr user robbstark

Theo—Theodore, originally—Greyjoy was born on the 21st November 1925, he had an older sister, by three years, his mother stayed at him and his father worked the docks in London. The family moved around a fair few times, each time moving closer and closer to London until they settled on a quaint, little house in the southeast of the city, it was there they lived when war was declared in September 1939. His father Barry lost his job due to the war conditions, a lot of people lost their jobs at that time of national panic and they lived on very little income, both his parents moved in with his grandfather while Theo and his sister were sent to live with their uncle, just until the family could gather their bearings and decide what was best for their children and themselves.

The Evacuation program was government run and, naturally, the young boy knew little about it, the only thing he knew was that he’d be travelling on the train and that was a cause for great excitement for any child that hadn’t been on one yet.

He stood on the train platform amongst a crowd of other children, some older, some younger, some hardly old enough to walk on their own two feet, but it was exciting and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. A new rucksack was placed firmly on his shoulders, both small hands around the straps as not to lose it and a fancy little slip of paper with his name written carefully in only the neatest of cursive hung on a string around his neck, all of his details there for the world to see, but everybody had them. They were ushered off, all of them, in one great crowd and onto the steam-powered train, and as it pulled away from the station, chugging along, Theo could not help but be thrilled, his little fingers almost trembling as he held to the windowsill, face pressed against the glass.

His sister had stayed behind, volunteering to help their mother with finding work and making money, and he had made his own friends, a particularly nice group of young boys that revelled in the stories he told about the docks. Theo was well spoken enough, his family were closer to the middle class than anybody would have believed, but they had enjoyed the jobs they’d taken up, more so than most of the boys he was sitting with. They listened as he spoke and when he grew too tired to speak they all folded themselves up and let their heads rest against the seats, falling into light slumbers, the rocking of the train soothing them as it powered them headfirst into a new life, an unknown world

When Theo awoke the city was long behind them, there were hills and fields as far as the eye could see, cows, sheep, horses, the works and, for the first time that day, Theo began to realise just how far he was from the city he called home, from his family, and a desperate need to talk to his sister came over him. But he wasn’t a weak little boy, no, he’d be perfectly fine sitting here, waiting for the train to stop, then he would be able to write to her, and he began to pray that the train would stop soon, as soon as it could.

His wish was answered, there was not more than another half an hour of waiting before he was being herded through the train doors, out onto the platform and marched down the street into the local church. He’d caught a glimpse of the station name as he glanced back,  _Middlesbrough_ , they were in England still, he knew that much, the very north, and he knew, then, that he must have slept for much longer than he’d realised. His stomach churned and yet he continued on, shoulders back and chest out, the brave, young soldier, despite the jellied legs he was walking on. As they were ordered and organised, squeezed into the pews, the adults began to stream into the room, lining the sides of the large hall, and there were many of them, some tall, some short, some balding men and some beautiful women. He was staring, watching all of them with a curious eye, until his name was called, the voice irritated,

‘Theodore Greyjoy!’

The boy stood himself up, eyes wide, a rabbit caught in headlights, and he was waved off, another woman coming to lead him to his fate, and oh if he’d have been able to choose the adults he left with they would not have been these two. The man was tall, broad, shaggy-haired and he looked fierce, but Theo paused at the sight of him, eyes crinkling, he had seen this man before, he thought to himself, he must have seen this man before.  _But that’s impossible,_  he said to himself,  _I’ve never been this far north, and judging by the look of him, this man has never left his cave_ , but Theo submitted, letting the man’s hand grasp his shoulder and lead him from the doors of the Church, and he let the thought go. Before he could stop himself he blurted out, eyes on the brute that stood above him,

‘Where are we going? ’

The man sighed and gave a small smile, crouching down to Theo’s level, both hands reassuring on his shoulders,

‘Now we’re going to my house, where you’ll be safe. I have four boys, two are near your age, you’ll have fun.’

Immediately his thoughts were shattered, this man was nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be scared of, he was kind and he would keep him safe, so Theo followed, jumping into the car—and the mere sight of the car had him reeling, wondering just what the house would be like—and letting the man, whose name he soon found out was Edward Stark, drive them along.

Side by side they sat and for some time neither of them spoke, an awkward silence washing over them, save for the formal introductions, until Theo raised his voice, a little hoarse and a little high from lack of use,

‘It’s the war, isn’t it? That’s why they’ve sent us away, I offered to go but mother would have none of it. Will I get to go home?’

Edward’s fingers flexed on the wheel, unsure exactly of what to say, he was certainly no expert on these sensitive subjects, so he merely nodded, letting the boy take what he needed from the small gesture, but he licked his lips and gave Theo’s shoulder another small squeeze,

‘Let me tell you about my family,’

Edward started, eyes on the road before them as they hurtled along,

‘My wife is named Catherine, you will like her very much, she’s very good with children, much better than I am, she often scolds me for being too rough with the boys. I have six children, there are four boys, Ricky, Richard, is the youngest, just coming up to four years old, Brendon is a little older, he’s seven, there’s Jon, Jonathan, he’s going to be fourteen soon, and there’s Rob, Robert, who is fifteen, just like you are.’

Theo listened carefully, trying to commit the names to memory, all names that sounded horribly familiar, and he put it down to his school, to London, he’d met many Johns and Roberts in that place, but Edward continued on, hardly letting Theo mull over his thoughts,

‘The girls are Arianne, she’s just like having another little boy, always getting dirty, she’s coming on to ten years old now, and there’s Samantha, lovely girl, she’s thirteen.’

‘They all sound very  nice, Mr Stark, Sir, but I’m not fifteen yet, I will be in two months.’

Edward muttered his apologies and mentioned something about a party, but Theo was not listening, he was watching the scenery pass by. They drove for almost an hour before Edward piped up, mentioning that they were close and, from then on, his eyes were fixed on the road. The house appeared, small enough for him to blot out with his thumb, that steadily came towards them, the car seemed to be inching to the right, as if to turn towards it and his heart was hammering again. The house was big, no, it was more than big, it was huge, a manor house and, for once, he knew he had lucked, he had struck gold and the shit-eating grin that covered his face was enough to show that. Edward spotted the grin and laughed himself as they swerved and began the approach to the front of the building.

‘Dunsley Hall it’s called.’

Theo nodded slowly, watching the place approach, and the family, too, standing outside like charming, little things. This place was perfect, it should have been on a postcard and, in fact, he was sure it was, sure that he had seen the postcard somewhere, taped to the fridge in the first house the family had lived in perhaps, and he found himself asking,

‘You don’t open up to the public, do you? Only I thin—‘

The gruff man shook his head and Theo let his words trail off, his lips pressed together and his eyebrows furrowed, wondering just where this place had come from. A magazine, the passing words of somebody else?

‘People say we should, but I don’t like the idea of strangers traipsing through my halls and around my children.’

The car came to a stop and they both let themselves out, Theo looking over the boys and girls that stood before him and, in embarrassment, he left the rucksack in the car, swallowing as he looked over the seven new faces, and it was Rob to step forward first, holding his hand out for a shake and Theo obliged, his eyes no longer focused on the house but on this boy in front of him. He was staring, and he knew it, even as he spoke to introduce himself his mind was elsewhere, and it seemed that Rob’s face had dropped slightly, too, no longer was he beaming but he seemed pleasantly surprised, intrigued.

Theo passed through the rest of the family, Catherine bent herself, accepting a light kiss to the cheek, but stood up unceremoniously fast, John, Richard and Brendon accepted handshakes, Samantha another kiss to the cheek, and she giggled, flushed already, though it was uncalled for, Theo was hardly the object of any girl’s attentions, and Arianne stuck her hand out, accepting the shake just as the boys had done. With that it was time to go inside and Edward led the way. The house was large, to say the least, the entrance was more a lobby than anything, like in some fancy hotel, large and open plan with sofas dotted here and there, a huge fireplace with an old relative hung over it, painted perfectly down to the crows feet at the corners of his eyes.

The day passed with little to do, mainly just Theo’s settling into the room he’d been given—each child had their own room on the first floor and the parents on the second, the help stayed out back in a separate house of their own—placing what little belongings he had brought with him on the tables and a small sepia photograph was rested, propped up, against the lamp on the bedside table. Dinner passed with an enthusiasm he had never know, questions fired at him from Rob, John and Arianne, the others remaining silent, Samantha was seated next to him and she said little, and she ate even less, he found it strange that she seemed so infatuated, so unable to speak a word, unable to do anything other than give light, crystal laughs at his awfully bad jokes, but that wasn’t to say he didn’t like it.

He woke the next day to a thundering noise from outside, horses hooves on the grass and loud yells, he almost fell out of his bed in fear, clutching the covers to himself as he teetered on the edge before his senses returned to him. They were in the country side, it was just horses, and so he stood and took small, careful steps to the window, peering curiously out onto the scene before him. Robert and John were both on horseback, clad in some kind of medieval armour, riding past each other and hacking at each other with blunted swords, cackling so loud it echoed off the helmets and armour they wore, he could hear it inside his head. In his head there were shouts of pain, of anguish and there were commands being yelled, very different to the laughter from down below. He tore himself from the window and sighed, dressing in the clothes that had been lain out for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lost inspiration with this, to be honest, will pick it up again eventually.


End file.
